


Ficlet Roundup

by wordslinging



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Compliant, Canon Gay Relationship, Established Relationship, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslinging/pseuds/wordslinging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A round-up of things I've written for prompts on Tumblr. Some canon-compliance, mostly various AUs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vigil

**Author's Note:**

> Three (or more) sentence meme, prompt: Agron/Nasir, Agron watching Nasir sleep.

Nasir stirs awake during the course of the night; the feeling of lying so close to another, strong arms wrapped around him, is far from unpleasant, yet also still new enough to be strange. He shifts, resettling himself against Agron, and blinks his eyes open, expecting to see Agron's sleeping face. Instead, green eyes meet his own.

"Apologies," Nasir murmurs. "I did not mean to wake you."

Agron smiles at him—that soft, gentle smile that makes Nasir's insides flutter treacherously, even half-asleep—and lifts a hand to Nasir's face, brushing back a stray lock of hair. "You did not."

Nasir returns the smile, automatically tipping his cheek against Agron's hand, and then pauses, blinking again. "You were awake and watching me, then?"

"I—" Agron looks for a moment as though he's been caught doing something secret, to be kept private even from Nasir. Nasir smiles at him, at once touched and amused, and Agron lowers his eyes and smiles again. "At times I yet find it difficult to believe you are truly here in my arms, and no dream."

Nasir's breath catches in his throat, robbing him of any reply he might make; in place of words, he lifts up on one elbow and leans over Agron, his unbound hair falling around their faces as they kiss. Agron lifts one hand to thread his fingers into Nasir's hair and cradles Nasir against him with the other—exceedingly gentle, ever-mindful of the still-healing wound.

When the kiss breaks, Nasir nestles against Agron, his head on Agron's chest. "Then let touch reassure you," he says, smiling as his eyes fall closed. "And sleep."


	2. New Guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three (or more) sentence meme, prompt: Agron and Nasir as high school teachers.

" _That's_ the new guy?" Agron asks in a low voice, eying him from across the teachers' lounge.

"Yeah," Mira replies, and quirks an eyebrow. “Why, what’s wrong with him?”

“Look at him!” Agron says, gesturing vaguely with his half-eaten apple. "He's all…young and fresh-faced and idealistic-looking. They're gonna eat him alive."

Mira nods thoughtfully, cocking her head to one side. "So…you think he's cute and you're not sure how you feel about that so you're deflecting?"

"What?" Agron blinks, looking away from the new guy. Not that he was staring at him. Because he wasn't.

Mira just smirks and says nothing.


	3. Complication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three (or more) sentence meme, prompt: Agron/Nasir, boarding school.

Agron had a plan, okay, and that plan involved avoiding any hookups at school. He's not in the closet or anything—the guys he hangs out with are all cool, and if anyone gave him shit he knows Spartacus and Donar and even Crixus would have his back—but he's always thought getting involved with anyone here would just make his life unnecessarily complicated. He doesn't want everyone in his dorm knowing the details of his sex life, and he doesn't want to run the risk of breaking up with someone but still having to see them every day for months on end. So, no hookups at school. He's dealt with self-imposed celibacy for the past two and a half years, he can do it for one and a half more.

He blinks. "Huh? Sorry, I didn’t catch that."

"I think you're my roommate's brother," the impossibly gorgeous boy standing next to him in the dining hall line says. "Either that, or there's a picture of you and him in our room for some other reason."

"You're rooming with Duro?" Agron asks. He knows he's staring, but fuck, how the fuck is he supposed to do anything else?

"Yeah." The boy smiles—Agron somehow manages to not swoon—and holds out a hand. "I just transferred in. My name's Nasir."


	4. Festivities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three (or more) sentence meme, prompt: Agron/Nasir, working in an office.

"You sure about this 'no alcohol at the holiday party' thing?" Agron asks, looking over his notes. "That's not gonna go over well."

Spartacus looks around the conference table patiently. "What have we learned about alcohol and parties in this office?"

"'It's a recipe for destruction of office property and possible harassment suits and I know you have an afterparty planned anyway so just deal with it, you boozehounds'," Nasir recites dutifully, not looking up from where he's doodling on his notepad.

Spartacus smiles approvingly and slides the box with the last donut in it toward Nasir. "Exactly. Maybe this way we can avoid some of the…incidents we've had in the past."

"Incidents like blowjobs in the supply closet?" Crixus asks innocently.

"That was _one time_!" Nasir and Agron protest in unison.


	5. Assumptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Agron/Nasir, "Quiet Me"
> 
> AU where they're a biker gang or something, idk, I just ran with it.

Agron knows people make a lot of assumptions about his and Nasir's relationship. There's the obvious assumptions based on their respective appearances, and there's the fact that Agron's known to be loud and angry and not big on impulse control, whereas Nasir is usually quieter and more level-headed. Most of the guys they run with have seen Agron go off on someone and Nasir step in to defuse things and calm him down; a lot of them have never seen it the other way around, especially with the influx of new blood they've had lately.

Brictius is one of the newer guys, and not exactly the sharpest tool in the box. He's already gone a few rounds with Saxa, and Agron would have thought that was enough for anyone to get it through their skull that with this crew, it doesn't pay to judge by appearances. Apparently not.

Agron's not there when things start going down between Brictius and Nasir, so he's not sure what it's about, just that Donar comes to get him and he arrives on the scene to find them standing toe-to-toe, Nasir glaring up at Brictius.

And if Brictius had any fucking sense, he'd know the look on Nasir's face means he should back off _now_ , but instead he glances over at Agron and sneers a little as he says, "Agron, come get your boy under control."

The last word's not even out of his mouth before Nasir launches himself forward with a hiss.

Agron wants to step in immediately, but he knows he shouldn't. If he gets involved now, either to help Nasir out or restrain him, it'll only make things worse (not to mention pissing Nasir off so badly that Agron would effectively be cock-blocking himself for at least a week). The best thing he can do is make sure this stays between Nasir and Brictius. He grabs one guy by the collar of his jacket as he starts forward, and sees Lugo and Donar intercepting a few others.

"Nasir!" Spartacus' voice cuts through the crowd, and Nasir freezes with his fist pulled back. "Enough."

Nasir backs off instantly, breathing heavily, blood at the corner of his mouth. Brictius is on his knees, hunched over and holding his stomach.

"Remember this the next time you feel tempted to call me 'boy'," Nasir tells him, and stalks off.

Agron goes after him, waiting until they're out of sight of the others to reach for Nasir. He touches Nasir's chin, wiping at the blood with his thumb. Nasir bats his hand away, scowling, and Agron grins.

"I'm glad you're finding amusement in this," Nasir huffs, turning away with his arms folded.

Agron takes hold of his shoulders, pulling Nasir back against his chest. "I always find it amusing when you show morons who think you're not a badass how wrong they are." He lets one hand run down to rest on Nasir's hip, tilting his head to speak in his ear. "Amusing and really hot."

Nasir snorts even as he presses back against Agron, some of the tension seeping out of him. "There's something really wrong with you, you know," he says. Agron nuzzles the space behind his ear until Nasir tips his head back, the corners of his mouth starting to curve up in a smile. "Probably the same thing that's wrong with me."

When they kiss, it's soft and gentle and tastes just a little bit like blood, and Nasir's probably right about there being something wrong with him, but Agron loves it.


	6. For Future Reference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Agron/Nasir, "Wed Me"
> 
> Takes place in a larger modern AU 'verse that's still in progress.

"It's going to be fine," Nasir says on the drive up. "Just--"

"--Be myself?" Agron finishes dubiously, and Nasir hesitates a moment before answering.

"Be the best version of yourself," he says, and then reaches over to put his hand on Agron's knee. "Seriously, it'll be fine. You've already got points just for not being my last boyfriend. Just try not to be too nervous. Or curse too much."

Agron tips his head back against his seat. "That's it. I'm doomed."

For all his nervousness, Agron's thrilled that they've made it to the 'meet each other's families' stage. They went to Wisconsin for Christmas and Nasir handled meeting the entire Lang clan like a pro. Spending the weekend in Boston with the Karims involves both less time and fewer relatives--it's going to be Nasir's parents, his brother and sister-in-law, and two nieces, which is nothing compared to the barrage of aunts, uncles, and cousins Nasir had to face--so Agron should be able to handle it. He's just a little terrified that he's going to make a horrible first impression he can never recover from and Nasir's parents are going to hate him forever, is all.

Nasir squeezes his knee gently. "If you need a break from talking to my parents at any point, we can volunteer to keep the girls occupied for a while."

"Will you judge me if I say I'm nervous about meeting them, too?" Agron asks.

"Really?" Nasir asks. "You're good with kids. You have, like, five billion younger cousins."

"I'm good with kids I _know_ ," Agron explains. "Ones I've built a rapport with. Kids I don't know are unnervingly tiny people who either stare at me without saying anything or ask a million questions about everything, and either way it usually ends up really awkward."

Nasir smiles at him. "Well, I don't think you're going to have a hard time establishing a rapport with Leila and Yasmin. They're great."

***

The initial meet-and-greet stage goes pretty well, Agron thinks. He can feel himself being scrutinized in the way only a parent who's trying to figure out if you're good enough for their child can scrutinize, but he manages not to drop any f-bombs and scores some points by offering to help in the kitchen, even though he gets shooed away from it. He and Nasir end up with the girls while they're waiting for dinner to be ready, playing with Legos on the living room floor.

Yasmin, who's only two, deposits herself in Nasir's lap, stares at Agron, and says nothing. Leila, who's almost five (or, as she proudly declares, four-and-three-quarters), is a lot more talkative, instructing Agron on the proper way to construct a spaceship.

Then, apropos of nothing, she asks, "Are you and Uncle Nasir going to get married?"

"Uh." Agron looks over at Nasir, who's looking down with a slightly embarrassed grin. "We haven't really talked about that yet."

"Don't look at me, I didn't put her up to it," Nasir says.

"My teacher told us boys marry other boys sometimes," Leila says matter-of-factly. "And girls marry other girls, too. And if you got married, Yasmin and I could be your flower girls."

"Ah, I see where this is coming from," Nasir says, and reaches over to smooth her hair down. "But I think getting married is something people should only do if they really want to be married to each other. Not just because their nieces want to be flower girls."

Leila looks between the two of them. "Are you in love?"

"Yes," Agron says at once, and Nasir looks over at him with that smile that still makes Agron's breath catch like he's seeing it for the first time.

"Then you want to marry each other, don't you?" Leila says, like that should be obvious and they're being silly to act like it's not.

Agron figures four-and-three-quarters is probably a little young for a screed about how people celebrating their love and commitment (and getting legal benefits for it, if they're lucky) is an awesome thing, but a lot of wedding traditions and assumptions about marriage are steeped in heteronormative bullshit, and he's not sure how Nasir feels but he has qualms about getting involved with all of that.

"Getting married is still a really big decision to make," he says instead. "But I'll tell you what--if we ever do, you and Yasmin get first dibs on being flower girls, okay?"

Leila makes him pinky swear on it, which he does with appropriate solemnity, and then Nasir's dad calls them into the dining room.

***

Later, in the guest room, Agron asks, "Do you ever think about it? I mean, not with us." He's pretty sure they're not at that point yet. He can see himself getting to that point with Nasir, though, which is both exciting and terrifying. "But in general?"

Nasir sits down on the edge of the bed, his expression thoughtful. "Sometimes. It bugs me how people act like marriage is this ultimate goal that everyone should want, y'know? Like, if you and I stayed together the rest of our lives and never got married, our relationship wouldn't be any less valid, and it's complete bullshit that some people would treat it that way." He scoots back on the bed until he's next to Agron, and shrugs. "But on the other hand, I appreciate that both the place I grew up and the place I live are states that have been decent enough to say I can legally marry whoever I want, and I might like to take one of them up on that someday."

"Yeah, I get that," Agron says, nodding. "There can definitely be a lot of bullshit involved in the whole marriage thing. But I can see myself wanting to get married, anyway. Someday."

Nasir looks over at him and smiles softly. "Duly noted," he says, and leans over to kiss Agron's cheek, adding, softly, "For future reference."


	7. Something Strange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Agron/Nasir, "Haunt Me"

Agron moved into the house more than a month ago, but he's been really cagey about letting anyone come by to see it. Duro figured it was just due to the state of the place--it's the kind that's charitably described as "a fixer-upper" and less charitably described as "a complete shithole".

When Agron finally invites him over for coffee, the house is looking a lot better than when he first moved in. Agron loves having lots of projects to keep busy with, which makes it kind of the perfect house for him. He just also usually likes dragging Duro along and making him help, so Duro still finds it weird that he's only been here a handful of times before. And Agron's _still_ acting weird and cagey, what the fuck.

"So, I need to tell you something," Agron says as they're in the kitchen waiting for coffee to brew. "And it's going to sound really weird and you're probably not going to believe me at first."

Duro eyes him, frowning slightly. Whatever this is about, Agron looks completely serious and more than a little nervous. "What's up?"

Agron hesitates, seeming really unsure how to say whatever it is.

"Look, he's probably not going to believe you until I show him, so why don't we just cut to that?" a voice says, and then a guy just...fades into view in the empty chair next to Duro. One second he's not there and the next he is, young, good-looking, and--faintly transparent?

Under the circumstances, Duro feels like yelping and falling backwards out of his chair is not an unreasonable response.

"Sorry," the guy says contritely. "I'd offer to help you up, but, y'know--" he waves a hand through the air, "noncorporeal."

"Jesus _Christ_ ," Duro mutters, staring at him.

"I usually just go by Nasir," the guy says dryly.

***

Once Duro's calmed down somewhat (Agron finishes making the coffee, but then looks over at his brother's wide-eyed stare and makes him a cup of instant decaf instead), he starts asking questions and getting to know Agron's ghost.

Nasir's been a ghost for about fifteen years, and doesn't talk about how he died. Duro finds that out the hard way, because of course he asks about it. Nasir curls in on himself and says nothing, but the lights start flickering and the cupboards rattle, until Agron says "We don't talk about that," and gives Nasir a reassuring smile. Nasir smiles back at him, and the rattling and flickering stop.

"Sorry," Duro says. "I guess that's kind of a personal question, huh?"

Nasir shrugs. "It's kind of inevitable that that's what people want to know when they meet a ghost. But yeah, it is."

They move on to other things. Nasir's tethered to the house--he can go about a mile away from it in any direction, but that's it. He can move things or control electronics, but it takes some effort. He prefers to act like he's solid--positioning himself so it looks like he's sitting on the chair instead of hovering over it, walking around things instead of through them--and he claims it's for Agron's benefit.

"Your brother gets weirded out really easily," he says with a teasing smile in Agron's direction.

That's going to be a problem, Duro thinks. They keep fucking smiling at each other, and every so often Agron reaches out like he wants to touch Nasir's shoulder or arm and then yanks his hand back with a sheepish look. If Duro were an outside observer he'd probably think Agron's just being friendly, but he knows his brother.

Trust Agron to fall for a fucking _ghost_. This is going to get interesting.


	8. Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Agron/Nasir, "Remember Me"

Sybil emerges from the tent, used bandages balled up in her hand and a bowl of water tucked in the crook of her arm. Sitting by the fire, Agron looks up at her approach, and she gives him what's probably meant to be an encouraging smile.

"He asks for you," she says, and Agron nods, standing and moving toward the tent.

It's been two days since the accident. The path they were on had grown rough and perilous, slowing their progress through the mountains. Nasir had taken Adal, who was light of foot, and the two of them had gone ahead to seek out safe paths for the others to follow. They'd been making their way down a steep descent when the gravel beneath Nasir's feet gave way.

He'd lain insensible as they carried him to a place where they could make camp, and while Sybil tended the gash at his temple. Agron had remained at his side, unwilling to leave it for even a moment until he saw Nasir open his eyes.

And when Nasir's eyes finally opened, there'd been no recognition in them. He'd been frightened, confused as to why there was no collar about his neck and why they called him Nasir and not Tiberius.

As Agron steps into their tent now, Nasir tracks his movements with the watchful, guarded look Agron remembers from their first days together. Agron still knows this Nasir--the one who would share friendly words over a cup of wine but show his teeth when he deemed it necessary, the one who'd had Agron entranced from the beginning--but it aches worse than the lingering pain in his hands that Nasir does not know him. He's given Nasir a wide berth these past two days, entrusting him to Sybil and Laeta's care.

"Sybil has been telling me of the rebellion," Nasir says as Agron sits down across from him. "It is difficult to believe myself part of such a thing, yet my own body bears the evidence." He looks down at his hands, strong and calloused from wielding sword and spear, and the scar on his side.

"You were one of our fiercest warriors," Agron tells him softly, and Nasir gives a faint, wry smile.

"Because of Spartacus," he says. "I recall hearing that name after the uprising in Capua. I regret that I do not recall the man."

"Perhaps in time you shall," Agron says. He fears to hope too much for the return of Nasir's memories, even as he finds the alternative unbearable.

"Perhaps," Nasir agrees, and then looks up at him. "Though at the moment, I find myself more concerned with remembering you."

Agron's breath catches, but he forces himself to answer in an even tone. "I would gladly answer any questions you have, in hopes that may speed return of memory."

Nasir leans forward, still watching Agron intently. "You've kept your distance from me, yet I know you slept just outside this tent the past two nights--a tent so large I suspect I did not dwell in it alone, before my injury. You were holding my hand when I first awoke--you look at me as though--" he pauses, taking a deep breath before he asks, "What am I to you?"

Agron meets his eyes, swallowing hard before he answers in a whisper. "Everything."

Nasir casts his eyes downward. "Why have you said nothing of this?"

"I did not wish to overwhelm you." That's not the whole truth, and he bows his head and admits. "And I could not bring myself to speak of it while you looked at me as if I were a stranger."

Nasir is silent for a moment. "Apologies," he says softly. "This must be very difficult for you."

Agron shakes his head. "I would not have you concern yourself with my comfort. Ask me anything you wish and I will answer. Ask me not to speak of this again, and I will be silent."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Nasir draw closer, then looks up at the faint, hesitant brush of fingers against his cheek. Nasir studies his face from inches away, and it is not _his_ Nasir looking out at him from those dark eyes, yet his gaze is softer and less wary than before.

"I would not have you silent," Nasir tells him in a low voice. "Nor would I have you at a distance." He lowers his gaze to Agron's hands and touches them hesitantly, fingertips ghosting soft as a whisper over the bandages. "I feel drawn to you, Agron. I feel better when you are near me--safer, happier. It's strange to feel such things absent any memory of you, yet...perhaps my heart remembers what my mind cannot."

Agron lifts a hand to Nasir's cheek, unable to speak at first for the way his heart clenches. "I have not dared hope it could be so," he replies softly. "If you would have me near, there is nowhere else I would be."

They sit close for the rest of the night, talking in low voices. Nasir shifts to lay his head on Agron's shoulder, leaning against him with their hands loosely tangled in Agron's lap. When Agron hears the rhythm of Nasir's breath lengthen into sleep, he lays him down and starts to withdraw, but Nasir catches at his arm and mumbles something unintelligible. Agron smiles and stretches out beside him, drawing a blanket over them both.

In the morning, the kiss that wakes him could almost have been his imagination--soft and chaste, pressed quickly to the corner of his mouth. Agron opens his eyes to see Nasir's smile, the first truly happy smile Agron has seen since the injury.

"Laeta says if we would have morning meal before we break camp and move on, we must stir ourselves," Nasir tells him. "She does not seem a woman to be trifled with."

"She is not," Agron agrees, pushing himself up. He drapes his arm loosely around Nasir's shoulders as they leave the tent, and Nasir leans into him.


End file.
